


And Now For Something Completely The Same

by mikesassmith



Category: Monty Python RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 13:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2069700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikesassmith/pseuds/mikesassmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life changes forever for Michael Palin when he decides to let a stranger take the wheel. Is he in for the ride of his life, or will he end up heartbroken once again? (Originally set in 1968)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strange Brew

Mike felt the studio floor beneath him shake for the fourth time that morning. These tremors were a daily occurrence and were really becoming a hindrance when it came to filming this series of “Do Not Adjust Your Set”. He ran his hand through his thick brown hair in frustration; it shouldn’t be taking this long to film this sequence.

Michael Palin stood at a modest, slender 5’11”, and had thick brown waves for hair. Also in his possession were two hazel green eyes, and the most distinguishable dimples in the business. He had been writing for television ever since he graduated from Oxford in 1965, three years ago. He was absolutely in love with writing and performing, particularly comedy, and couldn’t see himself doing anything else. However, this new series of Do Not Adjust Your Set was beginning to try his patience, mainly because of the riots going on around the studio lately.

Luckily for Mike, this was the last episode to film before he ventured on to a new project with John Cleese and Graham Chapman, the lads from “At Last the 1948 Show”. The duo were quickly making a name for themselves in the comedy television industry, and Mike was genuinely touched when he got the call from Mr. Cleese asking him to join them on “How to Irritate People”.

“I can’t bloody work like this!” A shrill voice screeched off to Mike’s right.

Terry Jones, a short, dark-haired Welshman, had been one of Mike’s closest friends when it came to performing and writing. The two had been lumped together since their cabaret days at Oxford, and Mike was having a difficult time moving on to something different without him. But he heard John’s words in the back of his mind, “Just you Mike, we just want you.” 

“Bloody protesters!” A slender, handsome, fair-haired fellow cried as he clenched his script tightly.

Eric Idle was famous for being quite the charmer on set. Every time Mike turned around Eric was canoodling with a female extra, or charming the stockings off of the ladies in the audience. Mike liked Eric, he could come off a bit arrogant at times, but he was funny, intelligent, and quite the guitarist. He was also a member of the Cambridge Footlights, a prestigious comedy troupe that John Cleese and Graham Chapman had also belonged to during their University days. Though that was a bit before Eric’s time, mind you.

Mike’s gaze lingered out of the nearest window; the sky blazed red to match the violent nature of things going on in the street.

The street? Mike shot quickly up to his feet as he was suddenly reminded of something.

“Oh damn! I didn’t park in the car park this morning, and the meter’s running! I won’t be long, just keep filming the Captain Fantastic bits, yeah?” Mike shouted over his shoulder as he bolted trough the studio doors before anyone could protest.

"I swear if there’s one scratch on it from these protesters, I will come unhinged," Mike thought to himself as he ran out into the crisp October air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things were much worse than usual as he attempted to identify his car amidst the chaos. Protesters crowded the studio street. Anti-war signs were scattered everywhere. Young people, students, hippies, and mods alike had been marching and chanting throughout the streets of South London for three days now. Apparently the American ambassador was trying to persuade the British government to aid them with the situation in Vietnam. 

Slim chance there.

Why the Colonies thought they could get Britain on their side when their own people didn’t even want to be in Vietnam was a mystery to Mike. Typical Americans, can’t keep their noses out of others’ affairs.

Mike was definitely anti-war, but being in the entertainment industry he felt the need to keep his political opinions out of the public eye. Nobody likes a radical, and he certainly didn’t feel the need to make a scene, unlike this lot of heathens apparently.

Mike finally located his car amongst a crowd of picketers who looked like they hadn’t slept or showered in days. He politely pushed his way through the disheveled bunch, making sure to apologize for accidental bumps and shoves he had caused until he finally reached the vehicle.

"Alright Palin, now how do we get out of here?" Mike thought to himself once he was safely inside.

Just as Mike started the car, his passenger side door was thrown open by a slim figure that quickly jumped inside.

“DRIVE!” A woman’s voice shouted as the figure frantically looked over her shoulders.

Without hesitation Mike threw the vehicle into gear. Luckily the police were clearing the protesters off the actual street and onto the sidewalks. He noticed a group of three officers were barreling towards him in his rear view mirror. 

"I guess that explains a lot." He took off at a blistering pace from the studio and was blocks away in under a minute.

The woman beside him breathed out a sigh of relief as she sunk down into the seat. She was a tall, slender thing, about 20 years old Mike guessed. She wore a military green tunic with form fitting black pants and combat boots. Her long wavy chocolate colored hair went down to her shoulder blades, and Michael could’ve sworn he saw flecks of gold in her light brown eyes. She was breathtaking.

“Oh! Turn that up, will you?” She pointed to the radio.

"American?" Mike thought to himself. "That’s not something you hear every day. Must be studying abroad."

“Hello?” She waved her hand to catch his attention. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate everything and all, but I’d rather not ride in complete silence if you don’t mind.”

“I beg your pardon?” Mike asked, rather taken aback.

“The Monkees are playing on your radio, sir. And I would like to listen to them, if you’d be so kind.” She chimed with an air of snarkiness to her voice.

Mike reached over to the volume control and turned it up until he could hear The Monkees’ “Daydream Believer” clearly. He was a little surprised by her tone, but quickly chalked up his offense to being British. 

“You’re American?” Mike asked as he watched the woman start to get into the song.

“Hmm? Yes! Oh where are my manners? Allison Graddy, from Texas at your service!” She threw her hand up to her forehead in a mock salute and flashed him a dazzling smile. She then closed her eyes and went back to grooving to the popular 60s tune.

Mike rolled his eyes, annoyed.

“A Uni student I’m guessing. Yeah, you’d have to be to do anything that ignorant!” Mike surprised himself; he was starting to sound like his father. “That was rather irresponsible of you back there I might add.” He decided to take a scolding approach, since he obviously had about 4-5 years on her. “Jumping into a random stranger’s car is generally ill-advised in these parts! And why were the cops chasing you? For all I know you could be a loony!”

“Chill out, man. What’s with the third degree?” She added calmly, still dancing to Davy Jones’ crooning over the radio, “I was protesting, obviously, and I threw a sign that accidentally hit an officer. The fuzz was none too pleased, so I took off running. Before they could catch me, I took a leap of faith and jumped into your car. Luckily, you were in here and either handle pressure very well or very poorly.”

Mike sighed, relaxing his shoulders a bit.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just got a lot going on at the moment. I’m finishing one show, and about to start a completely different one. I’m going to work with one of the most well known writing duos to date, and I have to do this without the one friend who’s been there for me through everything. We’ve been performing and writing together since we were both at Oxford. I came outside to move my car away from the fray going on outside, then you came along, and now the rest of the cast will be wondering what happened to me seeing as we’re miles away now.” Mike caught his breath, “It’s just a stressful time, okay?” He was surprised at how easy it was to open up to her.

“Why?” She cocked her head to the side inquisitively.

“Why what?”

“Why do you have to do this without your friend? Wouldn’t he be happy for you?”

“The new writers I’m working with want me, and only me to work with them. I’m afraid Terry will be hurt if I take this on without him.” Mike clenched the steering wheel so tight his knuckles started to whiten.

“Hey now,” she placed a sympathetic hand on his, “I know this is a really rough time. But just because you won’t be writing and performing with your friend on this show doesn’t mean he can’t be there for you and you for him. Who knows? Maybe your new colleagues will change their mind and decide they want to expand their troupe. Who knows? Maybe they’d even rather have him than you!” She nudged him playfully.

Mike laughed, “You’re probably right, Terry’s one of the funniest guys I know. They’d be lucky to have him. I’m Michael by the way, Michael Palin. You can call me Mike.”

“You’ve got a say in this group too, Mike. They obviously really want you, so they’d be unwise not to listen to your suggestions.” She squeezed his hand to reassure him. “Anyway, this is good. I don’t think the cops will find me here. Thanks again!”

With that she climbed out of the car and started walking at a brisk pace along the sidewalk, she turned around briefly and gave a curt wave before taking off and turning a corner.

Mike sat there stunned. He wasn’t really sure what he was feeling at the moment, but he did know that this complete stranger had barged into his life and provided him with the most translucent clarity.


	2. Dazed And Confused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The show must go on.

“Where the bloody hell have you been mate?” Terry cried out as Mike opened the studio door and stumbled in. He noted that Mike seemed a bit dazed as he crossed the room slowly.

“I er-,” Mike wasn’t exactly sure if he should tell the whole story. After all, the whole happening was a bit strange, “I had some trouble driving through the crowd, a whole lot of protesters can be tricky to maneuver, ya know?”

“We thought you might not have made it for a second there Mike, nasty business out there and what not,” David Jason’s voice chimed in, he was still wearing his Captain Fantastic outfit.

“At least he’s here now, can we just get on with the scene please? Someone get Mike into his costume please! We’ve got an hour to shoot this next sequence and that’ll be a wrap!” 

Mike was escorted to his dressing room where some dough-eyed girl helped him into his batman costume. He couldn’t stop his mind from focusing on his interesting encounter with Allison earlier. He felt completely at ease talking to her, and here lately that was saying a lot.

Mike groaned inwardly as he thought about all of the recent relationships that had gone wrong over the past year. He’d broken hearts, and had his broken in turn as well, but he hadn’t felt as at ease with any of those women as he had with Allison. She was fearless, it seemed. She threw caution to the wind, protested the war in public, jumped into a random stranger’s car, and in the short time she was there managed to comfort said stranger.

“You’re on in 3, Palin,” one of the crewmembers barked as he peaked his head into the dressing room.

I could never do anything like that. Mike slipped on his mask and swung his dressing room door open.

Mike made his way to the stage where the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band was already set up. Eric had his guitar slung over his shoulder, and was working on tuning it. Terry was prancing around in a superman costume, making the girls in the audience laugh by flexing and striking poses. David had changed into his new costume, and Denise Coffrey donned a blonde wig and a “Captain Fantastic” sign.

“ACTION!”

Eric mimed the opening chords to “Captain Fantastic” and lip synced while the others danced about rather interestingly. Terry continued to make poses and prance about like a pompous twat, while Mike, David, and Denise flailed about like imbeciles.

I bet a Terry Jones/John Cleese writing duo would be unstoppable Mike thought to himself as he watched Terry parade around the stage. The two certainly had similarities when it came to personality. With a bit more experience, Terry could easily become just as good or better. He’s one of the funniest men I’ve ever encountered in my life. Why the hell wouldn’t John want Terry?

After the scene was shot, Mike changed out of his costume quickly and made his way to Terry’s dressing room. It was confession time, and no matter how difficult it was to say Terry had the right to know.

“Drinks later Mike?” Eric called out as he walked to the door with Terry Gilliam, an American fellow who was an outstanding artist.

“Of course!” Mike answered before pushing his way into Terry’s dressing room.

Terry had already shed his superman costume; he now wore his black jeans with a white button down shirt. His dark curls were swept over to one side neatly, and he wore his usual Welsh smirk. A smirk that suggested he knew more than he should.

Classic Jonesy Mike thought to himself. Not a hair out of place.

“We’re meeting Eric and Gilliam at the pub, right Mike?” Terry ran a comb through his curls.

“Right!” Mike shouted a little too enthusiastically before hesitating, “Actually, I was wondering if I could tell you something before though.”

“Why so serious mate? Someone die?” He shot Mike a worried glance before returning his concern to his reflection in the mirror.

Mike shuffled further inside and closed the door behind him. He allowed the uncomfortable look on his face to relax a bit before continuing, so as to put his friend at ease. 

“Oh no, nothing like that.”

“Well out with it then, we haven’t got all day have we?”

Mike sighed, as he looked his friend in the eyes, “I’ve been offered a writing/performing role on a new show actually!”

“Oh really?” Terry questioned, the tone in his voice lacking any real interest. He was still too focused on his hair. “When do they want us to start? I might be booked up next month, but I should be free through December.”

“Oh uh-“ Mike looked around the room nervously. Searching for anything that could take him away from there. “That’s the thing mate. I’ll be doing this alone.”

Terry left his reflection alone, as he focused solely on Mike, his face expressing no emotion at all.

Oh dear, that’s not a good sign.

“Oh… Good for you then,” the Welshman reached for his jacket.

“Look, I didn’t want to do this without you mate, but they said they wanted me and only me,” Mike blurted frantically, “I think they want to keep the project small, without too many writers and actors involved.”

“But it’s always been you and me, Mike. We always write and perform together.” Terry said coldly, obviously a bit hurt.

“I’m going to try my best to get you on with me though, you’re the funniest man I know and they’d be daft not to consider you.” Mike paused, remembering how Allison had joked with him to make him feel better. “Come to think of it, I don’t even know if I’m funny on my own.” Mike smiled, hoping to salvage the situation.

Terry’s cold look warmed into what Mike thought might be a bit of a smile.

“Who knows? Maybe you’ve been holding me back this whole time you clot. Maybe I’ll finally rise to fame without your dumb arse holding me down.” Terry shot back, followed by a light chuckle. “The Terry Jones Show, has a nice ring to it don’t you think?”

Mike punched Terry’s arm playfully.

“I’m happy for you mate, I really am. I know you’ll do fantastic,” Terry said earnestly, “Who are the guys that want you to write with them?”

“John Cleese and Graham Chapman. Those guys we did The Frost Report with.”

“Those Cambridge Footlights chaps that Eric knows?”

“The very same.”

Terry raised his eyebrows, obviously impressed, “Well alright then, big shot. You can buy us a round at the pub then.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they made their way through the empty studio Mike debated whether or not now was the time to tell Terry about his encounter with Allison earlier. He knew after a few drinks his friend would pry it out of him eventually, and Mike was horrible with secrets. After all, if anyone would understand, it would be Terry. Terry was a creature of passion, there's no way that he would dismiss Mike’s feelings on the matter, even if Mike were unsure of what it was he actually was feeling.

“Oh and one more thing,” Mike said reluctantly.

“Spill it, Mike.”

“I er-“ Mike shifted uncomfortably, “I met someone earlier.”

Terry was taken aback. He knew better than anyone about Mike’s relationship issues over the past year. Bad relationship after bad relationship had caused the handsome Yorkshire man to give up on women for good, so this news came as a bit of a shock for the shorter of the two men.

“What do you mean? While you were parking your car?” 

Mike nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on a point on the floor.

“Oh sure Mike, I’m supposed to believe that a woman just threw herself into your car, introduced herself right on the spot, and the two of you hit it off instantly,” Terry bore a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “How daft do you think I am, Palin?”

“Actually, that about sums it up.” Mike finally raised his hazel eyes to meet Terry’s black irises.

“You’re joking,” Terry pushed his way out of the studio and into the cold London air.

“Well, it was all largely circumstantial, but she stumbled into my life and I just-,” Mike could feel Terry’s gaze boring into him, “I don’t know. But she understood me, and said all the right things. She’s beautiful, Jonesy, absolutely breathtaking.”

“So when do I get to meet her then?”

“Well uh-,” Mike scratched the back of his head, “never, most likely. She vanished almost as suddenly as she appeared.”

The two of them piled into Mike’s car.

“Oh great.” Terry rolled his eyes as Mike took off towards the pub. “Sounds like you’ve got it bad for a ghost, mate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Allison caught her breath as she leaned against the closed door of her flat. Man, if I keep up this rioting gig I won’t even need to go for a daily run to stay in shape.

6:00, the clock read. I’m going to be late, Allison thought as she tore off down the hallway to her bedroom.

During the day she was a hardworking Nurse in the cardiology department of St. Bart’s, by night (or whenever she was off) she had made a habit of playing guitar in local pubs with a few friends. It wasn’t anything serious, or a lifelong goal of Allison’s to be a musician, but she enjoyed it all the same. 

As she changed into a white tunic, she let her mind wonder to her abrupt meeting with a handsome stranger that afternoon. Sure, he’d been rude at first, but she probably would’ve reacted the same way if a stranger just jumped into her car and forced her to drive.

The first thing that stuck out about him to her were his dimples. He may not have had the biggest smile at first, but she saw the beginnings of one through almost closed eyes as she danced to The Monkees’ tune. He couldn’t hide them even if he tried.

She even thought the slight upward tilt his chin did when he was getting all high and mighty was cute. How easy it was to bring him down off of his high horse and have him expose his true colors. She could read him like a book.

Just my luck, I finally meet a man who can open up to me, and now I’ll never see him again. Allison sighed as she slung her guitar over her shoulder and locked the flat door behind her.

She took off running the 10 blocks to her and her “band’s” usual pub. 

She pushed her way inside. More people here than usual, this should be good. She spotted her friends backstage tuning their instruments.

“Cutting it a bit close, aren’t we?” Thomas Williamson, a tall, skinny, dark haired man of 24 inquired as he turned his low E tuning peg to satisfaction.

“Lay off Tom-cat, got caught up at the protest.”

Thomas was Allison’s first friend that she had made in England. The two had met in a guitar class at Uni, and had instantly hit it off. After class they would spend hours talking music, bands, guitar techniques, and so on.

“Oh yeah? Got hung up discussing protesting methods with the other hippies? They can really be a chatty bunch.”

The two brothers in the band, Josh and Daniel snickered as they set up their instruments. Josh, the older of the two on drums, and Daniel on bass.

“Turns out I’ve been doing it wrong all along, apparently you’re supposed to throw signs at the police and then jump into a stranger’s car when they chase after you. Ya know, as opposed to the usual chant and march approach.” Allison plugged her ebony Gibson Les Paul into the Marshall half stack while the others stared with mouths agape.

“Explain. Now.”

“Explain what? That I actually had a nice conversation with a stranger that I was forcing to drive away from the scene of the crime? What’s there to explain?”

Thomas rolled his eyes; this had “Allison” written all over it. He donned his tobacco burst Les Paul, and did a mic check as the curtain rose.


	3. Everyday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric makes a new friend, and more innocents become involved in Mike's predicament.

Mike and Terry stumbled into the pub and located Gilliam and Eric sitting at a table off to the left of the stage towards the back of the crowd. The group often grabbed a drink after filming, but this was their first time at this particular establishment. Apparently Eric had heard about it through Neil Innes, member of the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, who described the house band as “fucking smashing”.

By the looks of things, the entire south of London felt the same way, seeing as the place was jam-packed.

“Hold on,” Mike came to a halt as he spotted a third man at Eric’s table, “Is that who I think it is?”

Sure enough, a longhaired George Harrison was sitting next to Eric, laughing hysterically as Eric did a half-drunken rendition of “Jerusalem”.

“I guess we know what the fuss is all about,” Terry chimed, “I wonder how Eric knows him.”

The two finally made it to the table, and Mike was beginning to feel a bit weak in the knees. Never one to be star stricken, he found this new sensation to be a bit foreign. He never thought in a million years that he would find himself at the same table as a Beatle.

Eric stopped mid song as he saw two of his friends approach the table.

“Lads! Look who I’ve fucking found!” Eric semi-slurred, “George fucking Harrison!”

Oh great, Eric’s already pissed.

“George is my first name, but my friends call me fucking,” George smiled and stuck out his hand for Mike to shake. 

“I’m Michael Palin, this is Terry Jones.” Mike smiled politely and shook George’s hand firmly. “So, how do you and Eric know each other?”

“Funny story, I’ve only just met him, actually. I figured I’d drop in and see the local talent, and I recognized this twat from the telly, so I bought him and the Yank a round, one thing led to another and here we are,” George raised an eyebrow, “Come to think of it, you lot look quite familiar too.”

It was obvious that he had bought a few rounds, George’s slurred speech suggested that he had quite the buzz.

“Well, we ought to,” Terry’s welsh voice squeaked, “We’re on the same fucking program.”

“No shit huh? How ‘bout another round on me for your friends then Eric my boy?”

“No complaints outta me Georgie!” Eric slurred as tipped so far back in his chair that he was inches away from finding himself on the floor.

Eric and George got up to grab the drinks from the bar while Mike and Terry got settled into the table next to Gilliam.

“What a strange day this is turning into,” Mike thought to himself as he absentmindedly started toying with his shirtsleeve.

“You okay, Palin?” Gilliam’s gruff voiced barked.

“Oh yeah, just a bit of an odd day I’m afraid.”

“It’s not every day you help a felon, fancy her, join a new project with the Cleese/Chapman duo, and meet George Harrison,” Terry purred with a smug smile on his face.

Mike groaned.  
There was a pause that lasted for ages to Mike followed, by manic laughter from his American friend.

“I must have heard you wrong,” Gilliam choked out between laughing spells, “For a second there I thought you said that Mike ‘Mr. Nice Guy’ Palin’s got it bad for a con.”

“You heard correctly! They met whi- OUCH!”

Terry immediately started rubbing the spot on his shin where Mike’s foot had connected.

“Oh no,” Gilliam shook his head, “There’s no way in hell you’re leaving it there. Out with it Palin.”

Mike shot Terry an icy look before explaining the gory details from the carjacking that took place that afternoon while Gilliam listened with mouth agape.

“I thought your story was a bit far-fetched back at the studio, but I would definitely believe that over this,” Gilliam’s concerned look turned into a devious grin, “Look at you Palin, living on the edge. I like it.”

Just then Eric and George arrived with a pint for each person.

“I hate to go but I really must go back to blending in. Eric, do give me a ring sometime, would love to have you ‘round for tea. It was lovely meeting you all!” George gave a wave before vanishing into the crowd.

“What a prince of a guy,” Eric spat before taking a deep drink.

“Okay… That happened.” Mike thought as the house lights went off and the curtain went up.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thomas cleared his throat and grabbed the mic.

“Umm hi there, we’re just a band of misfits and we’re going to try not to suck for you this evening.”

After the chuckles died down Allison started playing the opening riff of The Monkees’ “Circle Sky”.

Mike nearly spit out his drink. Just when he thought this day couldn’t get any stranger…

“Whoa man, the bird can play,” Eric tugged at Mike’s shoulder.

He could feel the color leaving his face, his heart dropped to his shoes, and he was almost positive he was going to be sick. God must have a sick sense of humor.

He watched her strum effortlessly along to the fast-paced tune. She really was quite good in Mike’s opinion. He certainly wasn’t a musician by any means, but if Eric thought she was good, then she was good. 

The song came to a close and Thomas thanked everyone for the applause.

“I’m going to hand the mic over to our lead guitarist, Ms. Allison Graddy, give her a hand guys,” He handed her the mic and stepped back.

“Umm, I’m going to do a number by a legend from my hometown back in the states. This is 'Everyday' by Buddy Holly and The Crickets.” She croaked into the mic before playing the opening chords to the popular 50s tune.

Everyday it's a-gettin' closer  
Goin' faster than a rollercoaster  
Love like yours will surely come my way

“She can play AND sing,” quipped Jonesy this time as he propped his chin on his fist thoughtfully. It was apparent that the beer was starting to get the better of them. 

They were already on their third round, but the only thing on Mike’s mind was, “Why me?”

He had longed for her company ever since she bolted from his car, but now that the opportunity had presented itself he had no clue what to say or do.

“Should I ask her out, or will she find that a bit weird?” His mind raced, “Of course it’s weird, you only spoke to her for five minutes after she BROKE INTO YOUR CAR!”

That’s just it. Everything about her was a mystery, she was intriguing, a welcome break from the monotony of English predictability.

Before Mike realized the song had come to an end and she was bowing to the audience. The lanky lad with the dark hair had taken the mic again, and they were off on The Beatles’ “Can’t Buy Me Love”.

By the time they got to the solo the crowd had gotten into it. Couples were trying to dance on the crowded floor, Eric had even asked for Mike’s hand jokingly. But he felt too nauseous to even play along.

“ ’S wrong, mate?” Eric slurred.

“Not feeling well, must be the beer,” Mike grabbed his stomach to try and seem convincing.

Eric rolled his eyes.

“Fucking lightweight.”

Mike managed to make it through the rest of the setlist, which included “Bus Stop” by The Hollies, The Lovin’ Spoonful’s “Summer In the City”, and “Strange Brew” by Cream. Allison sang The Kinks’ “David Watts”, Bob Dylan’s “Mr. Tambourine Man”, and The Monkees’ “Valleri” without missing a single note. There wasn’t a single person in the crowd who wasn’t impressed.

Mike finally started to loosen up and enjoy himself; he even joined in with the rest of the crowd when they started to chant for an encore. Of which, the band was more than happy to supply.

Allison played the opening guitar riff to “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” by The Rolling Stones and the crowd went wild.

Mike noticed the chemistry between her and the other guitar player. She would often try to push her way in front of the mic, or he would shove her with his hip to try and mess her up. In between songs the dialogue between them was hilarious, it was quite obvious that they had known each other for a while.

“Figures, they’re probably a couple,” Mike let his mind get away from him, and the sick feeling came creeping back.

As soon as the song ended he started towards the pub door.

“Wait Mike!” Terry called after him, “I think Eric and Gilliam were going to try and talk to the band, did you want to come with us?”

“I’m actually feeling a bit off,” Mike groaned, “give them my best!”

Before Terry could answer, Mike was gone.

“Spoil sport,” Terry joined the other two off stage to patiently wait for the band to emerge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit far fetched, I know. But every story needs some drunken Idle/Harrison goodness (Probably OOC for George, but oh well). Please don't hate me!


	4. Things We Said Today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It appears that Mike might've made a mistake, we shall see. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Michael or any of the other Pythons. This is purely fiction, and it's all in good fun.

Once backstage Allison was all smiles. Thomas followed behind and instantly wrapped her up in a tight, friendly hug as soon as they were out of sight. Josh and Daniel were grinning from ear to ear as they began packing up their instruments.

“Now THAT’S more like it!” Thomas yelled victoriously. “Why can’t it be that way every night?”  
Josh and Daniel cheered in agreement before taking the bass and drum kit outside to load onto the truck.

“If it were like that EVERY night, then you’d just feel the need to move on to bigger and better things,” Allison raised an eyebrow at her tall friend before resuming packing her guitar into it’s hard-shell case.

“Well we can’t all be like you, Alli. For some of us, music is all we have.”

It’s true; Thomas had never wanted to do anything besides make music ever since Allison had first met him. His parents had forced him to go to University, and when he had dropped out they disowned him. The band was the only family he had now.

Allison sighed before grabbing his hand and squeezing it.

“One day, Thomas. One day.”

Allison and Thomas decided to go through the front door to exit the pub, which was starting to clear out a little bit at this point. Allison always enjoyed chatting with the people in the audience, and usually Thomas could score a free drink.

Upon walking out, they were met by three men crowding around the stage door. One was tall and thin, sort of like Thomas but with lighter hair, he wore smart slacks and a blue button down shirt with a black jacket. ‘He’s quite handsome’ Allison thought as she approached the group. The other two men were a bit on the short side. One was a bit gruff looking, with a wide smile, dark eyes, and long stringy hair. The other was a stout fellow; he had neat dark curls, and thick caterpillar eyebrows. The tallest of the three was the first to speak.

“That was fantastic,” He exclaimed sticking his hand out for Thomas and Allison to shake. “My name’s Eric, Eric Idle. These are my friends Terries Jones and Gilliam.”

He gestured wildly to the two men on either side of him.

“Someone’s enjoyed himself tonight,” Allison thought as she watched the tall, fair-haired man try to keep his balance.

“Thanks man, I’m Thomas Williamson and uh this is-“

“Allison Graddy,” Allison shook each of their hands firmly.

“What a lovely name,” Eric shot her his best smile.

“Oh lord, not this right now Idle,” Terry Jones thought to himself as he rolled his eyes.

Allison chuckled.

“You absolutely must let me buy the two of you a drink,” Eric offered, his smile not faltering for a second.

“Well if I absolutely must, then by all means,” Thomas answered as he and Allison followed the other three to the bar.

The two other men had been extremely quiet up until that point, but after Eric bought the first round, the “Terries” had started to warm up a bit.

The one they called Gilliam had a sketchbook with him and he drew caricatures of both Thomas and Allison. Thomas’ hearty laugh filled the pub when Gilliam showed him his picture that accented his huge smile, and Allison couldn’t quite stifle her giggle when she saw her face, which consisted mostly of her golden eyes.

Terry Jones was quite quick with the jokes, she soon found out, and his high-pitched Welsh squawk made him all the more funny. He always had a quick response to whatever was said, and each quip ignited a laughter that spread throughout the pub like wildfire. 

“So the three of you guys work on a television show together?” Allison asked Eric, who was sat closely next to her.

“Well remembered.”

“Funny.”

“How do you mean?”

“I ran into someone earlier today who also works in television. It’s not everyday you meet a celebrity, let alone four.”

This caught Jonesy’s attention, but his mind was clouded by alcohol and he couldn’t quite figure out why that had alarmed him. He went back to telling Thomas the story of the time he and Mike had been stranded at a cabaret show in Ipswich.

“ ‘S a lot of us about,” Eric flashed her a grin before taking another drink.

Allison had enjoyed everyone’s company immensely. The Terries were like little balls of humorous energy that just wouldn’t quit. Eric had been quite charming all night, he told her stories of his days at Cambridge and even some funny anecdotes of the antics that went on at the filming studio. She laughed the hilarity of at all, a real honest to goodness laugh.

Hours passed, she yawned and caught sight of Eric’s watch.

“My God, is that the time?”

“Oh dear, I’m afraid we’ve chatted the night away, love,” Eric crooned checking his wrist as well.

“It would appear so,” Allison got up to leave, “I’d love to stay, but I have work in the morning. Thank you so much, Eric, for the drinks. It was lovely meeting all of you. I’ll see you later Thomas!” She straightened out her white tunic and picked up her guitar before shuffling to the door.

Eric stood up and followed Allison to the door.

“Typical Idle,” Jonesy shook his head and resumed listening to Thomas’ analysis of The White Album.

Allison emerged out into the cool night air only to be surprised at hearing the door open and close again. She whipped around to see Eric leaned up against the brick wall of the tall building. The man that had seemed so confident at the bar, suddenly looked shy and timid. The smile had faded into a more serious look, and his eyes kept on shifting from Allison to the concrete beneath his dress shoes.

“Would it er-“ Eric shifted his gaze up to Allison, then back to a fixed point on the sidewalk. “Could I poss-“

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as Allison just stood there frozen.

“I just can’t stand the thought of not ever seeing you again. So, I thought I’d try my luck and ask for your telephone number.” His icy blue eyes met hers.

‘He sure sobers up quick,’ Allison’s mind flashed to Michael for an instant, but she instantly threw that image away. That was NEVER going to happen; besides she didn’t even know the man. They had only talked for five minutes for God’s sake. To be fair, though, she didn’t know Eric either. But he had been kind, and the two of them actually did have a lot in common. And with the pathetic look he was giving her right now, how could she say no? Why the hell not?

“Yeah, alright.”

Allison jotted down her number quickly and handed it to Eric, who wore a grin so big that it almost extended past his cheeks.

“Let me walk you home?” He asked hopefully.

“Oh thank you, you’re very kind. But I think I’ll walk alone tonight, mull over the day and all that. It’s quite nice actually, walking alone in the darkness, nothing to focus on but your thoughts.”

Eric nodded in understanding and leaned in to give her a peck on the cheek.

“Good night Allison.”

“Good night Eric.”

And with that she set out into the cold October night, alone to ponder the strange happenings of the day.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Mike banged his head hard against the dark oak door that led to his flat.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why do I always chicken out? Isn’t that what I wanted, another chance to see her again? 

Mike sighed so loudly he feared he might wake his neighbors.

He felt like an absolute clot. He was so afraid of rejection that he would rather run away than to take a chance at possible happiness.

“Or possible melancholy.” He found himself saying aloud as he undressed and stepped into the shower.

He let the warm rain from the showerhead clean off the weirdness of the day. And it was probably for the best that he didn’t find himself in a relationship at this point in his life. After all, he did have a writers’ meeting with THE John Cleese and Graham Chapman later that week and he didn’t need any distractions.

He might as well have been in the middle of the most distracting scenario one could possibly hope to be in, because he found himself awake hours later in bed thinking of Allison.

He thought of her voice. It was clear and confident as she strummed the acoustic guitar she had replaced her Les Paul with off stage. He saw images of her grooving about on stage. Her white tunic went down to her hips, and from there down were her long legs covered in a pair of tight fitting black pants…

Mike’s cheeks reddened at the thought.

He lay awake all night while visions of her danced through his head. By the morning he had a heavy heart and a throbbing headache.


	5. It's Nice to Be With You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a while to get this up. To be frank, it was nightmare to write and I'm really sorry if it's terrible.

Allison pulled on her black pea coat as she walked the five blocks from the tube station to Eric’s flat. Decembers in London could be quite unforgiving for a summer child like herself. 

Her mind drifted back two months ago in October. Eric had called the very next day after the night at the pub back in October to ask her out. She was hesitant at first, but he charmed a “yes” out of her.

Their first date was the next night, and it had been absolutely lovely. They took a walk through Trafalgar Square, talking about their jobs, and their University days. Allison explained how she came to England through Texas Tech University’s study abroad program.

“Texas? Didn’t peg you for a cowgirl.” Eric took his jacket off and swung it over her shoulders to protect her from the chill.

“I miss it terribly, but I feel like this is where I belong. So I never went back.” She let him put his arm around her as she pulled his jacket tighter around her. She sniffed the faint smell of cologne and aftershave.

She cursed herself for deciding on the short mint green box dress, she should’ve known London nights in late October could be rather cold. It had been worth it though, because Eric couldn’t take his winter blue eyes off of her when he was standing in the doorway to pick her up.

Afterwards they had a lovely dinner at a quaint Thai restaurant, and then went to listen to local musicians play in the park. They talked music and guitars; Eric even invited her to his flat so he could show her his collection of custom made acoustic guitars. Allison politely declined, saying that she would turn into a pumpkin if she didn’t get back home soon. 

This time she let Eric walk her home, all the way up to the door in fact, and the evening ended with a short good night kiss. 

Here she found herself, two months and seven dates later, each one more lovely than the last, going to Eric’s flat so they could watch a program that some of his friends had written and were acting in.

‘Where did the time go?’ She found herself thinking as she climbed the four stories to his flat.

He swung the door open and greeted her by spinning and dipping her in his arms, kissing her deeply; he had definitely improved in that area since their first date.

“Hello beautiful,” Eric pulled her into a warm embrace. “Fancy a glass of wine? Dinner should be done in about 15.”

“That would be lovely,” Allison plopped down on Eric’s blue sofa, making herself at home as she always did when she was over.

She listened to the sounds of Eric clamoring about in the kitchen, he returned with three glasses and a bottle of Chablis.

‘Three glasses? Perhaps he’s bad at math?’ Silly thought, Eric was too intelligent to make a mistake like that.

“I’m sorry, love.” Eric began, “A good friend of mine was in on this show and he didn’t have anyone to watch it with, so at the last minute I sort of said that he could stop by. I hope you’re not upset. He’ll leave after the program’s finished,” He paused to look her up and down, “then I’ll have you all to myself.” 

“It’s perfectly alright, the more the merrier!” Allison shot him a wink and a smile.

Eric leaned in and kissed her forehead, “Thanks pet,” and with that he went back to tinkering in the kitchen.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Mike could always tell when his friends were taking pity on him. So it was easy to see through Eric’s façade when he had asked him to join him and his lady “friend” to watch the airing of “How to Irritate People”.

Mike wished people could just accept the fact that he was quite content to be alone. Sure, he had that one incident a couple of months ago. And yeah, he would drive by a war protest every now and then just to try and catch a glimpse of his mystery woman. This did not mean that his friends should feel obligated to include him on every single thing they did.

But he had accepted Eric’s offer hadn’t he? He knew that Eric had been seeing someone, and that he would be a third wheel tonight, but a part of him wanted to be able to share this with someone. Jonesy was visiting family in Wales, and he hadn’t heard much from John or Graham since the show went into post-production. All of his other friends were away visiting their families for the holidays.

So this led Mike to where he was now, buzzing Eric to let him in while he let his mind wonder to Allison and how he wanted very much to share this with her. If it hadn’t have been for her, he might not have summoned the courage to tell Terry about the gig, and they might not be on good terms right now. That, and John Cleese had gotten it into his mind that he wanted to do a television series the next year, and thanks to Mike’s suggestion, was seriously considering bringing Terry in on it.

Eric greeted Mike with a friendly hug and took his jacket while Mike’s eyes searched every corner of the living area until they spotted an extra glass of wine.

“Alright Idle,” Mike put on his most authoritative voice in his arsenal. The one reserved for when he had to play a constable, or a father figure of some sort. “Where are you keeping her then?”

“I like to keep ‘em in me pantry with the nonperishables sir!” Eric responded in the sleaziest voice he could muster, before howling with laughter. “She’s in the loo, actually. Just make yourself comfortable Mike, you know where everything’s at.” With that, he vanished.

Mike chose a seat on the far end of the couch, sinking into the old blue sofa.

“Pasta alright?” Eric’s disembodied voice floated from the kitchen.

“Perfect,” Mike called back.

The faint sound of a door closing down the hall caught Mike’s attention. He put his glass down delicately as Eric came dashing out of the kitchen to introduce him to this stranger.

“Mike this is Allison, and Allison this is my good friend, Michael.” Eric waved his hands about, gesturing to the both of them.

“It’s very nice to mee-“ Mike stopped abruptly and immediately felt the color drain from his face as he looked up to see the woman that had been plaguing his thoughts for the past two months. 

“Mike?” Allison’s face oozed recognition.

‘Oh just kill me now,’ Mike thought to himself.

“You two know each other?” Eric’s eyes squinted in confusion.

“Hardly,” Mike found himself speaking.

“We bumped into each other a while back and spoke very briefly,” Allison added.

The look on Eric’s face suggested that he was dissatisfied with that answer, but he continued anyway.

“Right, well I guess that saves us the awkwardness of formalities. I’ll just pop back to the kitchen and leave you two to chat for a bit,” Eric clapped his hands and disappeared around the corner.

The two of them stood in silence for a full minute. Mike couldn’t bring himself to look anywhere else but at his feet, as he was still in shock from seeing the world’s only living ghost. He recalled Eric bragging about finding a bird at the pub all those nights ago, he just figured that out of all those people there was no way that it could be Allison. There must have been hundreds of women there, and he just assumed that a person in the band would leave through a stage door or something.

“What are the odds?” She finally broke the silence. 

“What do you mean?” He met her gaze.

“We can’t ever meet under normal circumstances can we?”

Mike thought carefully about what he was going to say next, he had to ease the tension some way.

“Little do you know, I’ve been stalking you from afar, planning the weirdest way in which I could barge into YOUR life this time. Not very fun is it?” Mike was surprised at how clear his thoughts were, and how articulately he was interpreting them.

“In all honesty, I’m a bit disappointed. I mean, you could’ve tried a bit harder. Don’t you think? Showing up in a mutual friend’s apartment? Not exactly evil genius, is it?” She raised an eyebrow skeptically.

They both broke down and started giggling, glad that the tension had been released. 

Once into it, the conversation flowed back and forth with ease. She asked about Terry, which she assumed was one of the Terries that had been with Eric that night at the pub.

“He was a bit hurt at first, but he had to find out eventually. John’s even thinking about bringing him and a few others in on our next television series,” Mike grinned as he recalled John’s enthusiasm.

“Oh that’s wonderful, Mike. Really wonderful.”

Likewise, Mike asked about her life. Where she was from exactly, what she did, and all that jazz. She went on about Texas and her family, which he could tell that she loved very much by the way she described each person. He was genuinely surprised when she said that she was a nurse, between anti-war protesting and being a guitarist in a band, he just assumed that she was a student with no responsibilities or cares in the world. 

‘I really have to stop making assumptions when it comes to this woman,’ he thought as she talked animatedly about one of her patients.

Minutes passed and they had breezed through a number of topics, music, philosophy, her weird obsession with The Monkees and Mike Nesmith, and Mike’s odd love of public transport.

“It’s more entertaining than anything I’ve ever written or performed in.” Mike explained.

“Well I don’t doubt that,” She teased.

“Oh shut it!” He shot back in mock offense. “How could anyone be expected to compete with the lady eating an entire jar of mayonnaise in the corner, not on a sandwich or anything, just the mayonnaise, or the guy passed out drunk in the middle of the tube, or how about the transvestite that had a tail? I’m lucky I’m not out of a job!”

She placed her hand on her stomach to steady herself against her intense laughter, as she wiped the tears that had started running down her cheek with the other.

That’s how it happened. Before today it was just curiosity, but after really talking and getting to know her there was no doubt. He was falling for her, and hard too.

“Who’s ready to watch the show?” Eric said as he balanced three plates of food in his arms, eyes shifting back and forth between the two of them.


	6. And I Love Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How far will Eric take things when he feels his relationship is being threatened?

“Bet you can’t guess who that is,” Eric pointed at the screen as the show started.

“It’s obviously John Cleese. Honestly Eric, how dumb do you think I am?” Allison shot back without looking away from the screen.

“You’re here with me aren’t you?” He teased as he squeezed her sides, causing her to squirm.

Allison responded by swatting him softly on the chest, but Eric caught her hand softly before she could pull away and planted a soft kiss on her tanned knuckles.

“Jesus Christ,” Mike muttered under his breath as he rolled his eyes in disgust.

If he was being honest, Mike wouldn’t have been able to give his genuine opinion on the show at all if anyone had asked. That’s mainly due to the fact that he wasn’t paying a lick of attention to the television screen. No, instead he found himself completely focused on the woman that sat across the room from him. The same woman that happened to be curled up next to one of his good friends.

It was difficult to say how long he had been focused on her, but it had been long enough for him to count the number of times she bit her bottom lip (Thirty seven and counting). She also had this nervous habit of tying a strand of her hair in a knot and letting it unravel on its own. 

Her face had lit up from the moment he had appeared on screen, and she had been laughing practically nonstop ever since. Every time Mike made an appearance her eyes would shift in his direction ever so slightly, not enough to fully look at him, but enough for Mike to notice.

It was Eric’s throat clearing that brought Mike out of his trance. Allison wasn’t fazed at all, keeping her focus on the Airline Pilots sketch, but Mike looked up to find Eric’s piercing blue eyes searing into him. He wasn’t sure how long Eric had been noticing him notice her, but the look on his fair-haired friend’s face suggested that he was not going to tolerate it for another moment.

The sound of heartfelt laughter eased the tension a bit as Mike and Eric broke their gaze to look at the hysterical woman on Eric’s lap.

“That was absolutely brilliant, Mike,” Allison managed to get out in between breaths.

Sure enough, the show was over and the credits had begun rolling.

“Y-you think so?” He stammered.

“Oh I absolutely loved it, how about you Eric?” Allison turned her gaze to the stoic man beside her.

The hard look on Eric’s face softened into a smile, “Really great, Mike. Top notch stuff.”

“Er- thanks mate,” Mike squeaked out, “and thanks again for letting me come over, eat dinner, and watch this with you. It really means a lot.”

“Of course, what are friends for?”

“Well, I shan’t intrude any longer,” He stood and trudged his way to the front door with Eric on his heels, “It was lovely to see you again, Allison!”

The brunette poked her head around the wall.

“And you as well Michael! Congratulations!”

“Yeah mate, you really deserve it.” Eric gave Mike’s shoulder a tight squeeze before opening the door for him.

Mike gave one last “thanks” and a short wave before making his way to his own flat in the cold winter night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“At last! I thought he’d never leave,” Eric sighed as he shut the door behind him, “Now you’re all mi-“

As he turned the corner to his living room he was shocked to find it completely empty. He stood still, holding his breath, but he couldn’t hear foot steps or anything that suggested another person was in his flat.

“She probably just went to freshen up,” he thought to himself before padding down the hallway to his bedroom to do the same.

He caught something out of the corner of his eye about halfway to his door, and when he turned to face it he realized he was stopped in front of his music room. 

It was well known among his friends that Eric considered his music room his sanctuary. As far as they knew, no one ever went in save Eric. It’s where he would go to unwind and play music, he even wrote his sketches in this room. Whenever someone eve went near that room Eric tensed up, the room was a part of him, a part that he didn’t have the desire to share with anyone. The walls of the room were lined with posters of bands, playbills, and television show posters. A piano sat open in the corner of the room next to his black writing desk. On his desk there was only one picture of a lovely couple, the photograph looked as if it had been taken in the forties. The man wore an Air Force uniform and had the same midnight blue eyes as Eric. The woman was significantly shorter, but again resembled Eric in that she had the same toothy grin. It was the only photograph he had of his parents, as his dad died at a young age and his mother had sent him off to boarding school because she couldn’t cope with his father’s death. He often looked to the photo for inspiration when he was having trouble writing. His eyes finally landed on the slender woman who was observing every little thing that hung on his wall.

Allison turned on her heel as soon as she knew she was being watched. She had been eying the 1966 model honey burst Gibson Hummingbird that he had on his guitar stand. It was one of about ten acoustic guitars that he had in this room, but it was by far the most beautiful. Her eyes danced over the fret board, itching to touch, but she knew better than to mess with someone else’s guitar.

“You have taste,” Eric purred as he stepped all the way into the cozy room.

“Couldn’t resist,” she flashed a toothy grin, “I have a tobacco burst hummingbird at home, and it is my absolute favorite.”

“A Gibson girl eh?” He raised an eyebrow, “Could you be any more perfect?”

Allison stroked her chin, pretending to be in deep thought. “No, I really don’t think so. You scored big with me, Idle, so don’t blow it.”

Eric rolled his eyes, she could be cheeky when she wanted to be, and that was definitely a plus in Eric’s eyes. Too many women nowadays were just a pretty face with no depth whatsoever, but not Allison. While most were pretty black and white, she was multiple shades of gray.

“Here,” Eric grabbed the guitar and thrust it towards Allison then went and fetched one of the Martin acoustics that was hanging on the wall.

“Oh Eric I-,” She looked at the guitar longingly before trying to hand it back, “I’d love to, but I’m weird about playing other people’s guitars. It just doesn’t feel right.”

Eric waved his hand to silence her, “Please? Play something for me?” His great blue orbs tugged at her heartstrings as they pleaded with her.

Allison sighed heavily, “Fine, what songs do you know?” She sat down in one of the chairs off to the side and Eric followed.

Without speaking Eric strummed the opening chords to the Beatles’ “And I Love Her”. Allison recognized the song instantly and started to play the melody. Eric cleared his throat and began to sing.

I give her all my love  
That’s all I do  
And if you saw my love  
You’d love her too  
I love her

Allison’s hand slid up the fret board smoothly to play the arpeggios.

She gives me everything  
And tenderly  
The kiss my lover brings  
She brings to me  
I love her

A love like ours   
Could never die  
As long as I have you near me

Bright are the stars that shine  
Dark is the sky  
I know this love of mine  
Will never die  
And I love her

Without missing a beat, Allison transitioned directly into the solo. Eric’s eyes danced along with her fingers as she played with ease. Each note rang out with clarity, and her timing was impeccable, it was clear that she wasn’t a novice when it came to this instrument. With every strum Eric found himself falling further and further.

Bright are the stars that shine  
Dark is the sky  
I know this love of mine  
Will never die  
And I love her

Allison looked up to find Eric staring at her as the ending chords began to fade. The lustful look in his eyes was enough to make her cheeks flush red. Without a word Eric took the Hummingbird from her hands and put it back in its place. He then turned on his heel and pulled Allison to her feet before scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to his room.

Eric gently laid Allison on the bed, somehow managing to kick the door shut behind them. There was a brief moment where their eyes locked and she could see the fire and passion in them before his lips were on hers, soft and tender at first, but deepened with each passing second. 

Eric tugged at the bottom hem of her shirt while his tongue sought entrance into her mouth. She took the queue, breaking the kiss to pull the blouse over her head while Eric followed suit. She lay back with eyes closed waiting for the kiss to resume, but when it didn’t she opened her eyes to see what was going on. Eric’s look of desire had been replaced with one of concern as he sat up.

“Are you sure about this?” He uttered quietly.

Without a word, she stroked his cheek before answering him with a passionate kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this up, 'twas a busy week indeed. I hope it's not too horrible.


	7. Act Naturally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. Between Robin Williams' death, the Ferguson ordeal, and the fact that it was just a busy week in general, I've just had some trouble finding the time to write, but hopefully I should be a bit more punctual from now on. I have a general idea of how I want this fix to go, but if anybody has a specific thing they would like to see happen, feel free to comment and I'll see what I can do! I hope you're enjoying the story so far, things should speed up here pretty soon so please be patient! Thank you so much for reading! You guys rock!
> 
> BTW This is what Allison, Thomas, and Cara look like in case they were poorly described.
> 
> Allison: https://scontent-b-dfw.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-frc3/v/t1.0-9/1375665_10151648106777471_748310105_n.jpg?oh=fcd6ba53127185a8797be2e040778e94&oe=547CDB1D
> 
> Cara (with Allison): https://fbcdn-sphotos-d-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xpa1/v/t1.0-9/10527315_10202594904289860_8135301016816224189_n.jpg?oh=9945075e8c68b0e824b42c6e33b8e3dd&oe=54600250&__gda__=1415939910_ba0f9d5c79faf4ad06863a5a9b01521c
> 
> Thomas: https://fbcdn-sphotos-h-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xfa1/v/t1.0-9/181224_10150815745937481_1061325113_n.jpg?oh=6ace078915c2dbe3f7cd79dfda44bc59&oe=545FC399&__gda__=1415360662_377654526600c25a7cb5c181b5e600bb

Mike wandered around the city for what seemed like hours. He had opted out of taking the tube back, thinking a nice, brisk walk was exactly what he needed to clear his head.

He recalled how hard he had worked these past few months to get her off of his mind. It wasn’t easy, but she had started to become a distant memory. He had completely thrown himself into writing and performing when it seemed like he would never see her again, and yet there she was, out of nowhere, with a close personal friend of his, no less.

His amazement quickly turned to anger, “Fucking Eric!” He thought to himself, “He could have any girl he wanted just by smiling at them, and he just had to choose this one.”

“I mean, I guess they do have the music thing in common… But why!? Why couldn’t I have this victory for once?”

Mike wallowed in self-pity as he marched on. Rain started to fall heavily; water droplets were transformed into ice pellets as the freezing weather worked its magic.

“Now that’s just brilliant,” Mike grumbled, pulling his thick, black coat tighter around his neck. “Bloody English weather.” Off he went into the night.

Half an hour later he found himself on his front doorstep fishing his keys out of his coat pocket, muttering angrily to himself out of frustration. The door creaked loudly as he entered the modest sized flat and shook off his damp coat.

He had had this place since he first decided to move to London after he had been offered a spot on The Frost Report. He and Terry had been roommates for a year in this place until they both had made enough money for Terry to move out. Mike had been quite content to live alone, Terry never seemed to have time to do any of the cleaning or shopping, and Mike was a bit meticulous about keeping everything in its place. So Mike wasn’t exactly heartbroken to see Terry go.

It was a pretty decent apartment for the money and location. With two bedrooms and two bathrooms in good condition, and on this side of London, one would almost certainly have to have a roommate to afford it. But the landlady, Ms. Henley seemed to have a soft spot for Mike, and was a sucker for his dimples, so she let him keep it at half its original price.

He held his jacket over the bathtub and shook the moisture off before hanging it up neatly in his closet. He stripped out of his damp clothes, tossed them in the hamper, and stepped into the shower to dwell on his thoughts some more.

‘I thought for sure I was done for,’ Mike pondered as Eric’s fiery gaze seared its way back into Mike’s mind. He brushed his shampoo-lathered hair out of his eyes as he leaned against the wall. ‘Fair’s fair after all, Eric was the one who had the guts to make a move.’ But Mike couldn’t shake the feeling that his friend had slighted him. He knew it was silly, but he felt like fate had been trying to push the two of them together.

Mike finished washing up diligently; having always been keen on personal hygiene, he left no surface unscrubbed. He toweled off, slipped into a clean pair of boxers, and found himself lying in bed letting the memory of Allison’s laughter sing him to sleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Allison cracked one eye open and surveyed the room around her until her eyes landed on the figure lying next to her. Eric’s bare chest rose and fell as he slept soundly, half covered by the sheets. He seemed to glisten as the moonlight streaming through the bedroom window reflected off of the faint layer of sweat that remained from their night of lovemaking. 

Her eyes widened as she caught sight of Eric’s watch, which was laying on the nightstand. She had to be at the hospital by 5:00, which gave her just under an hour. In one swift motion, she swung her bare legs out from under the comforter and on to Eric’s hardwood floor, making sure to step lightly so as not to disturb him.

Luckily her clothes hadn’t strayed too far from where they were tossed, which made them easy to locate. She dressed quickly and stole one last glance at Eric’s sleeping form, which hadn’t moved since she had first awoken, before bolting out the front door as quietly as she could manage.

As she cantered down the sidewalk she let her mind drift off to the night before. She honestly hadn’t planned on sleeping with Eric, but she had gotten caught up in the moment. Between the pleading of his eyes, and the song he had sung for her, she couldn’t resist him any longer. At first he was really sweet and gentle, making sure that she was comfortable at all times, but things quickly grew wild as Eric was overtaken by lust. In fact, she didn’t recall anyone ever looking at her like that, nor did she think she had ever been so twisted up in another person before.

Eric definitely wasn’t her first by any means; she had been with a couple of guys back when she was in school. But they were shy and inexperienced; none of them had taken charge like he had. And she was certain that none of them had had a clue what they were doing. She couldn’t say the same for Eric; he definitely had had a lot of practice, and knew exactly what he was doing. 

Allison climbed the three flights of stairs to the cardiology department in a daze. It wasn’t until she had changed into her uniform, clocked in, and found herself at her nurses’ station that she was brought out of her trance by a familiar voice.

“Looks like someone had a fun night,” another nurse said from the station next to Allison’s.

Cara Minnix was a short, blonde nurse. She was one of the first friends that Allison had made in nursing school, and both were fortunate enough to be hired by the same hospital when they had graduated. When it came to personalities, the two of them couldn’t have been more opposite. Cara’s favorite color was pink, she was really into the fashion scene, and she could care less about music or The Beatles. But somehow the two had clicked, and now she was one of Allison’s best friends.

Allison just looked up and groaned.

“Hair all disheveled, bags under your eyes, your face is shiny like you haven’t showered yet… Looks like Eric got lucky!” Cara teased.

Allison wasn’t really in the mood to discuss the happenings from the night before; really all she wanted to do was sleep. But she found herself telling Cara about going to Eric’s and watching the show, Michael being there, finding Eric’s ‘sanctuary’, and finally the sex.

She was just about to get into the gory details when a patient checked in.

“Coffee later, then? I want to hear the rest!” Cara hollered as Allison raced down the hall.

Allison gave her a thumbs up as she dashed into the hospital room.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The shrill ringing of the telephone shook Mike from his slumber. Who in their right mind would be calling at this hour? The sun wasn’t even up yet, for Christ’s sake!

“H-hello?” Mike stuttered into the receiver as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and shivered. He felt foolish standing there in just his boxers, even if it was in the privacy of his own home.

“Ah yes, Michael! I’m going to venture a guess and say that you saw the show last night, correct?” A booming voice seemingly shouted from the other end.

Mike blinked a couple of times to in order to adjust to being awake, “Yes, John. Believe it or not, I did. Now can I help you with something, or do you make a habit of calling all of your colleagues at this ghastly hour?”

“Well if you’re going to whinge, Palin, you can just forget I even called. But as it so happens, I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh this should be good. Do tell.“

John began an endless stream of throat clearing that drove Mike up the wall. How could anyone, John Cleese included, make this much noise at 5:30 in the morning? 

“Alright, alright, get on with it!”

“I, John Cleese, which is who I am. Me, so to speak, who is John Cleese-“

“John, I swear to God, I don’t have a violent bone in my body, but if you don’t spit out whatever’s on your mind I am going to strangle you.”

“My, my, aren’t we ratty? Alright, Palin, don’t get your knickers in a twist. We actually just received the ratings from last night, and they were off he charts. Almost all of the feedback was positive!”

“That’s fantastic, so what’s the proposition?”

“Well, Gray and I were thinking about doing a series that would be similar to it, and we wanted you to work on it with us. Oh, and get this, we’ll need several other writers as well. Do you think your friend, Terry was it? Do you think he would be interested as well?”

Mike was taken aback. This was certainly a lot to process, especially this early in the morning.

“I uh-“ He ran his hand through his tousled hair, “I’ll have to ask him, but that would be great.”

“Oh, splendid Mike! I’d like to present the idea to the Beeb by the beginning of the New Year, so let me know soon eh? Well, I shan’t keep you any longer, I’ll be in touch soon, alright?”

“Yeah, alright.”

“Good night Michael!”

“Good morning, John.”

Mike sighed as he hung up the phone. He practically ran back to his bed to bundle up under the covers. Why he had decided to sleep in only his boxers in the dead of winter was beyond him.


	8. I'll Follow the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric drops a major bomb on Allison.

Allison sighed loudly as she plopped down on the stool at her station.

Nine hours into her twelve-hour shift, and it was starting to wear down on her. Luckily things looked like they were starting to slow down, up until then it seemed as if the entire city of London was going into cardiac arrest.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the glass door that led to the waiting room and cringed. Her tangled brown waves had been carelessly thrown into a bun, and now a few loose strands were flying free. Her eyes were ringed with dark bags, and her light blue uniform had a few blood splatters here and there.

‘Oh good, I look a mess.’

She went back to working on a patients’ chart when the clearing of a throat distracted her once again.

“I’m sorry to bother you miss, I’m looking for a girl that ran away in the middle of the night last night.” She recognized the voice instantly. “You haven’t seen her have you? About 5’6”, devastatingly beautiful, and has the voice of an angel.”

She looked up to see Eric trying hard not to let his smirk break through.

“Eric what the hell? How’d you get back here?”

As if she couldn’t guess.

“A bit of charm will get you everywhere,” the famous Idle smirk had come out of hiding by this point, “and your receptionist is a fan of the show.”

“Well is there something that you needed from this runaway that couldn’t wait until the next time you saw her?” 

She didn’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it did, but she did have charts that needed to be filled out, and it would’ve been nice to do it without interruption.

“I er-“ Eric sensed her irritation, but regained confidence when her frown contorted into a playful grin, “Well I suppose it could’ve waited. I just really wanted to see you.”

Allison’s cold exterior had completely melted. She knew Eric’s reputation as a lady’s man; it had been evident from day one at the pub. So she figured that once she had given in and slept with him that he would probably leave her and move on with some other girl he’d meet in a pub somewhere. He was certainly making a habit of proving her wrong.

“Also I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while,” Eric cast his gaze downward, “but the BBC are having a New Year’s Eve party and I would be honored if you would accompany me.”

Allison’s eyes lit up for the first time that day.

“I-I would love too!” Allison nearly knocked Eric as she rushed up to embrace him.

As the initial shock of the attack wore off, Eric snaked his arms around her waist and squeezed tightly.

“Well, if this is your reaction, I’d also like to invite you to Boxing Day, Easter, my Birthday…”

Allison buried her face in his neck and breathed in his scent, his usual aftershave and cologne.

“I guess I’m just relieved.”

At this, Eric pulled back and held her by her arms, a look of concern painting his face as his eyes searched hers.

“This is going to sound silly, but I um…” She reached up to nervously play with a loose strand of hair.

“You what?”

“I just um… Well now that we’ve ya know,” she waved her hands to emphasize what she was getting at, “You just seem like such a charmer, and I figured you’d be moving on to the next girl by now.”

A look of genuine hurt crossed Eric’s face.

“Allison, that’s not fair.”

If she could disappear right then, she would have. It was wrong of her to assume the kind of man Eric was without giving him a chance, and the hurt man in front of her was driving that point home.

“I know, and I’m so sorry.”

“How could you even think that? Especially when I lo-,” Eric’s eyes widened as he clasped a hand over his mouth to keep himself from saying the rest.

It was too late; she wasn’t going to let him off that easily.

“Especially when you what, Idle?” She raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

He nervously rubbed the back of his head as he debated on whether he should make up some excuse or just come right out and say it.

“Oh fuck it,” He blurted. “I’m in love with you, Allison.”

Allison took a step back, but remained silent. It was as if she were waiting for him to burst out laughing, as if this were a cruel joke.

Seconds passed, Eric searched for a sign, or some sort of indication that what he had said hadn’t completely screwed things up. 

He wasn’t entirely sure of his feelings towards Allison until recently. He was definitely attracted to her, and he liked spending time with her, but until yesterday he wouldn’t have called it “love”. But seeing Mike unable to take his eyes off of her had sparked a feverish jealousy with no cure in sight. 

It wasn’t until he had stumbled upon her wandering through his sanctuary, and the song they played together that he knew he was in love. He had always tried to hide the room from guests, even friends, but she had found it and treated it with kindness. That was what he wanted all along, someone he could be himself with.

More seconds passed, and Allison was still frozen. He knew it was too soon to spring this on her, why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut for once?

“I’m sorry, I uh-“ he wrung his hands and looked down, “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s probably too soon, I understand if you don’t feel the same way.”

How many times could this man break her heart in one day?

Using her fingers, she gently tilted Eric’s chin up, forcing him to look at her.

His lips parted, but before he could say anything he was interrupted by her lips meeting with his. 

Okay, so it wasn’t the answer he was hoping for, but at least she wasn’t running for the hills.

“Oh my! Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” A shrill voice crooned, causing the two of them to jump apart.

Cara stood there watching them with a knowing smile on her face. 

“Oh no, Eric here was just leaving, weren’t you Eric?” Allison smoothed her uniform in an effort to compose herself.

“Ah, so this is the famous Mr. Idle?” The blonde nurse flashed Eric a grin that suggested she knew all of his secrets.

“Famous?”

“She’s kidding with you,” reassured Allison, “Eric, this is Cara, my best friend. Cara this is my uh- this is Eric.”

“Nice to finally meet you,” she grabbed his outstretched hand and shook it firmly.

“Please, the pleasure is all mine,” Eric bowed.

“Quite the charmer, aren’t we?” Cara raised her eyebrows.

“Right,” Allison rolled her eyes, “anyway, I’ve got to finish these charts. I’ll see you later Eric?”

“Only if you promise not to sneak away this time.”

She was doing a lot of eye rolling here lately.

“Goodbye. Eric.”

“Lovely to meet you, Cara.” Eric called over his shoulder as he made for the door.

“You as well,” Cara called back.

And with that, he vanished, leaving Allison to dwell on his words while she worked.

Cara’s voice crept into her thoughts.

“My, my, he’s handsome, isn’t he?”

Allison sighed; this was going to be a long three hours.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

England’s usual gloomy weather greeted Mike as he emerged from the tube station. Today’s ride was particularly uneventful, just the usual lot of nose-pickers and self-mutterers.

‘What a shame,’ he had hoped to encounter some real weirdoes so that he might have a story to tell Terry at lunch. Which, if Mike’s watch was correct, was in two minutes.

He jogged the remaining four blocks to Terry’s favorite deli, and practically mauled the tiny Welshman upon arrival.

“Oi! Watch where you’re goin’ ya twat!” The all-to-familiar screech rang out.

“Sorry mate, didn’t see you there,” Mike teased.

“If you’re goin’ to make fun of my size, Palin, then you’re buying both of our meals,” Terry cocked an eyebrow and shook his fist in front of Mike’s face.

Mike held his hands up in surrender, “Alright, alright, I’m finished.”

He then began searching his person, “Oh Terry, could you get me today? I’m a bit… short.” 

Mike could barely get it all out before bursting out into giggles.

“Oh real mature, Mike. Spoken like a true Oxford graduate.” Terry fumed before turning to the cashier and placing his order.

“Oh relax Jonesy, ‘twas only a bit of fun,” Mike was in an unusually chipper mood, for today he had good news. News that involved Terry and himself, and Mike couldn’t wait to spill his guts.

Due to the sinister nature of the sky outside, the pair decided on a table inside the shop. It was cozy enough, dimly lit and barely big enough to hold twenty people at one time, and there wasn’t a space on the wall that wasn’t covered by a poster or photograph of some sort. The place definitely had character.

They chose a table for two that was near a window, solely to satisfy Mike’s obsession with people watching. For humans were fascinating creatures, especially when they’re unaware they have an audience.

Terry knew immediately that Mike had something on his mind. A creature of habit, Mike always chose the chair facing the door, again, for the sole purpose of observing humanity. Today, Mike didn’t give the door a passing glance as he chose the seat facing the opposite wall. His eyes were fixed on the ugly, saffron-infused table.

All of these things were red flags to the Welshman, but his friend was in an undeniably good mood. The entire situation made Terry extremely uncomfortable.

Clearing his throat, the dark-haired man took the seat opposite Mike.

This brought Mike out of his trance, the famous Palin dimples framing the grin he’d been wearing since his arrival.

“Alright, I’ll play along Mike,” Terry spoke with a wary expression, “what do you know that I don’t?”

“Quite a lot, actually.”

“Oi, no need to be rude.”

Mike shook his head furiously; his shaggy hair unable to stay in place.

“Oh no, I didn’t mean it that way. I uh-“ Mike smoothed his disheveled locks into place as he contemplated how to word what he had to say. “I actually got a call this morning.”

“Oh?” Terry scooped two lumps of sugar into his tea and stirred. “Who from.”

“A Mr. John Cleese,” the grin never leaving his face.

“With good news, I’m sure. I saw the show last night mate, bloody brilliant.”

“Yes, quite.”

On a normal day, Terry wouldn’t have been able to shut Mike up. His friend’s hesitance had officially piqued his interest. “Well?”

“Hmm?” 

“That’s it then?”

“Oh yes, I believe so,” Mike’s grin grew at least four inches, “oh uh- just one more thing.”

“Sometime today Mike.” Terry had had enough of this little game.

“The show did so well that John wants to make an entire series like it, and he wants to include both you and me on it,” Mike folded his arms as he waited for Terry’s reaction.

Terry didn’t disappoint. As he took it all in, his eyes widened, his mouth opened and closed as he searched for the proper words to say. All of a sudden he had forgotten what to do with his hands, which were all over the place at the moment. 

“FUCK!” He finally elected to shout, much to the waitress’ dismay as she set a sandwich in front of each of them. “That’s just fantastic!”

“It’s all pretty preliminary right now, but with the response we got last night, I don’t see why the BBC wouldn’t be on board,” Michael added.

“That’s just-“ Terry composed himself. “That’s great. Thank you Mike.”

“Don’t thank me, you deserve it Terry.”

“So when do you think we’ll know for sure?” Terry inquired through a mouth filled with sandwich.

“At the beginning of the New Year, I’ll be sure and find out for sure when I see him at the New Year’s Eve party.” Mike took a large bite out of his own sandwich.

“Speaking of which, are you going with anyone?”

“Oh no, I think I’ll just go stag on this one.”

“Are you sure? I’m sure I could find a friend of a friend would love to go with you.”

“I’m fine, really Terry.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this!” Cara managed to gasp in between breaths.

“I felt I was very upfront when I said ‘do you want to go for a six mile run with me after work?’” Allison jogged in place while she waited for her friend to catch her breath.

“Well, I wasn’t aware that we’d be going for the world record!”

“You wanted to grab coffee, I thought we should make time so as to avoid the lunch crowd.”

Without another word, Allison took off with Cara following reluctantly. In truth, she needed to clear her head after the bomb Eric had dropped earlier, and running could almost always do the trick.

She had actually been quite the athlete back in high school. She played it all, volleyball, basketball, softball, track, cross-country, you name it she did it. It had been years since she had done a lot of it, but she never gave up running, it was the best stress reliever she knew of.

She couldn’t have picked a better day to run either. Well, at least not in her opinion. She was always happiest on the gloomiest of days, and today would definitely qualify. The black, ominous clouds had been threatening a storm for an hour, and it was only a matter of time before the floodgates opened.

 

Realizing this, Allison once again quickened the pace, as Cara tried her best to keep up. Not only was Allison a seasoned runner, but also her legs were considerably longer than her short, blonde friend’s.

Luckily they arrived at Cara’s favorite coffee shop just as it started to pour. Once safely inside Cara doubled over, gasping for breath.

“Remind me never to go running with you ever again!”

Allison shrugged as she walked nonchalantly up to the counter and placed her order, followed by a flushed Cara. The two then chose a table by the wall and sat, sipping their hot beverages.

“So…” Cara started, raising an eyebrow at Allison.

“Oh, go ahead and ask,” Allison had known this was coming.

“Did you and Eric… you know…”

Allison rolled her eyes and sighed, “If you must know, yes we did.”

“And?” She gestured for Allison to continue.

“Oh it was lovely, I just wish you could’ve been there,” Allison teased.

“Alright, alright I get it,” Cara threw up her hands in surrender, “you don’t want to get into the details. But at least tell me how the evening went. He seemed rather shaken at the hospital earlier.”

Allison took another sip of her coffee before speaking, pondering just how much she should tell.

“Well, we had a lovely night in. He cooked dinner-“

“Ooooh I love a man who can cook!”

Allison shot a look at her friend.

“As I was saying, he cooked dinner, and remember that guy that I met at that rally back in October?”

“Ah yes, the mysterious hero. What about him?”

“Well, he came over too. Turns out he’s a friend of Eric’s.”

“Oh, awkward.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, if I remember correctly, he was all you talked about at work the next day. You seemed rather taken with him,” the blonde girl playfully nudged her dark haired friend with her elbow.

“Oh that was months ago,” Allison shoved her friend away, “besides, I’m with Eric now. And we’re… happy.”

“Right.” Cara wasn’t convinced, but she wasn’t going to pry any further.

“Anyway, we watched Mike’s new show and then he left. I kind of wondered off into some sort of ‘sanctuary’ of Eric’s, it was like a total man-cave, guitars, posters, a writing desk. It all seemed very personal. Then we kind of did a duet, one thing led to another, and then I’m sneaking out of his flat at 4:00 am.”

Cara blinked as she processed the information, “must have been a heavy moment, then.”

“It really was, a lot of raw emotion in that one instance, and we acted on it.”

“Well, you must be pretty special to him if he let you see his ‘sanctuary’.”

Allison debated whether she should say that Eric had used the ‘L’ word not four hours ago, but decided against it. She really wasn’t in the mood to explain why she couldn’t say it back. In fact, she didn’t really know why she couldn’t say it back; it just didn’t seem like the right thing to say.

“Well, do you have any New Year’s Eve plans?” Cara decided it best to change the subject.

“Actually, I’m going to a BBC party with Eric.”

“Oh how posh, be sure to keep us little people in mind when you’re off gallivanting around the globe with your famous new boyfriend.”

“I shan’t forget you, I just wish you could come to this thing with me. I’m awful at parties.”

“Well, what are you going to wear?”

That thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. Not one to frequent events like this, she doubted that her wardrobe contained anything appropriate.

“Good question, I’ll have to go shopping before.”

Cara perked up a bit, as she usually did when shopping came into the conversation, “SAY NO MORE!”

Before Allison could protest, Cara had already pulled her out into the rain.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mike groaned as he and Terry walked into their fourth shop that afternoon. His Welsh counterpart was hell-bent on finding a new waistcoat for the party, and Mike admittedly could do with a new sports jacket. He just didn’t think it would take Terry this long to find the right one.

“What’s wrong with just a simple black waist coat?” Mike wrung his hands out of frustration.

“Don’t be so drab, Palin,” Terry browsed the tiny shop, “it’s a party, not a funeral. At least I won’t be the one showing up in a tweed sports jacket.”

Mike glanced down at the brown thing that lay in his plastic bag. He thought it would go perfectly with his red bowtie and black slacks. Terry was the one that was going for the outrageous colors like bright orange and electric blue.

The shorter of the two had made his way deep into the store while Mike hung out near the shop window, watching the pedestrians try to keep dry, when someone caught his eye.

Sure enough it was Allison, soaked to the bone clutching a plastic bag of her own and accompanied by a short, almost white haired girl of about the same age.

Without a second thought, he was out the door in seconds.

“Allison?” He cried out, as he quickly became drenched due to the rain.

She looked around to see who was calling, when her eyes landed on a sopping wet Mike.

“Mike! Oh my, what are you doing here?” she inquired.

“Oh just some shopping,” he shook his wet hair out of his face as he approached the two of them. “Needed something to wear to a party that the BBC is throwing for New Year’s. What are you doing out in this weather?”

“The exact same thing, Eric actually invited me to it, and as it turns out my closet is completely depleted of party attire. So my friend, Cara here,” she gestured to the short girl, “took it upon herself to help spruce up my wardrobe.”

“Oh, I see,” He turned to the girl she called Cara and stuck out his hand to shake, “I’m Mike by the way.”

“Oh, I’ve heard,” Cara flashed a knowing smile that left Mike puzzled.

“So what’d you get?” He pointed to the bag that Allison was holding.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, Palin,” she clutched the bag closer so as to protect it from wondering eyes. “Who are you taking to the party?”

“Oh no one yet, I might just go stag,” he rubbed the back of his head nervously. 

“You and Cara could go and double with Eric and I, it could be a lot of fun,” Allison asked hopefully. She still wasn’t comfortable going to this party, and she was going to do everything in her power to ease any potential tension.

“Yeah, that’s actually a pretty good idea,” Mike’s smile and dimples now prevalent, “if she’ll have me, that is.”

“I’d love to!” Cara chimed cheerfully.

“Right, well, I better get back to my friend in there.” Mike started to back towards the shop. “It was lovely to see you again, and I look forward to the party!”

“You too!” Allison called out as her and Cara started looking for shelter from the downpour.


	11. Rock Me My Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions arise between Thomas an Allison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, things have been extremely busy here lately and to be honest this chapter was giving me hell. Thank you so much for reading!

“Was I fantastic out there or what!?” Thomas exclaimed once they were offstage. Josh, Daniel, and Allison followed behind drenched in sweat after what could only be described as an intense gig.

“Four stage dives,” scoffed Daniel as he swung his bass off of his shoulder. “I think that might be a new record.”

“Well we can’t really afford to smash our instruments now, can we? And something has to be done to get the crowd into it!”

Allison watched the boys argue with a look of fondness. She had met Josh and Daniel shortly after becoming acquainted with Thomas. The three of them were childhood friends having grown up just down the street from each other. Josh, the older of the two was as tall and lanky as they come. His long auburn curls matched the stubble on his chin, and were only enhanced by the intensity of his electric blue eyes. Daniel was several inches shorter than his brother, but still towered over Allison, and was every bit as lanky as Josh was. He kept his sandy brown hair shaggy, but short and had it swept across his dark brown eyes.

Thomas met her gaze and spoke, “So, Stumbling Goat for New Year’s as usual?”

Allison could’ve smacked herself. She had known Thomas for five years now, and every year they spent New Year’s Eve at the same pub near the University. They had stumbled upon it their first year when they were walking to a party and found themselves caught in a blizzard. They sought refuge in the nearest, warmest place they could find which happened to be The Stumbling Goat. It wasn’t the fanciest of establishments, but there was good food to be eaten, lovely people to be around, and wonderful music to be heard. They spent the whole night there until the blizzard died down, and had a wonderful time. So they went there every single New Year’s, and each year they were welcomed back by familiar smiling faces.

“Oh dear, I completely forgot to tell you…” She started.

Thomas’ smile quickly faded from his face, he knew she was going to flake out.

“I erm… I already have plans with Eric.” She finished, timidly looking into Thomas’ dark eyes.

Thomas couldn’t say that he was surprised. Eric was the first “serious” guy she had dated since he’d known her, but that didn’t make this hurt any less. It had been their thing, and she had hung him high and dry.

“Oh, um…” He tried his best to hide his disappointment. “Well, that should be fun. I hope you guys have a great time.”

“I’m really sorry Tomcat, it was sprung on me suddenly and I didn’t get a chance to think before I responded!”

Thomas turned to start packing up the instruments, “It’s fine, really. I’ll just hang out with the guys that night.”

She rolled her eyes further back into her skull than she ever had before. She loved Thomas to death, but here lately he had developed this annoying habit making her feel guilty every time she spent time with Eric. After all, it’s not like she had missed a practice or a gig, and with the upcoming holiday the hospital was busier than ever. She was tired, and stretched thin, but she would always be there for her boys.

The group finished packing up the rest of their instruments, slinging them haphazardly onto the truck, which was waiting for them in the back alley of the pub. Thomas did everything in his power to avoid eye contact with her the entire time, so Allison decided she ought to make it up to him somehow.

“Hey Thomas,” she called out as she lifted her guitar case. “Wanna grab a drink? I’m buying!”

Once again she was given the cold shoulder. He didn’t even utter a word; he just gave a slight shake of his head, hopped into the vehicle, and sped off down the street leaving Allison alone in the alley.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Allison sighed, kicking a stray rock from the concrete out into the pavement of the street. “I suppose I deserved that.”

She set out into the night with a heavy heart and a worried mind. Sure, she and Thomas had had their disagreements, but he had never left her alone in a dark alleyway before. 

Maybe she should have made more time for him; here lately she would either find herself at the hospital or with Eric 90% of the time. The only times she ever saw Thomas was at a gig it seemed like.

Still, that was no reason to drive off all dramatically, leaving her in a totally cliché potentially dangerous situation. Speaking of which, at that moment there was a lone dark figure moving towards her at an alarming rate.

Allison clutched her hard shell case to her chest, hoping it would provide some sort of defense against the mysterious man. Yes, it was definitely a man. He wasn’t particularly tall or large or anything, but he was definitely taller than the average female. He walked hard too, his foot landed with a loud thud with every step.

“Well, if he’s skulking, he must be an amateur,” Allison thought to herself as she moved as far over to the side of the alleyway that she could.

It was then that the light from a nearby streetlamp caught his profile, and Allison felt herself relax as she instantly recognized the man as none other than Michael Palin.

It was quite clear that he hadn’t quite recognized her yet, but it wouldn’t be long until their paths crossed, considering he was moving at an alarming rate. He had an untidy pile of papers tucked under one arm, as he lifted the other to glimpse at his watch.

Allison wolf whistled at him as he approached, almost causing him to trip and fall. She held her arm out to catch him before he tumbled, making sure none of the papers he was clutching had escaped his grasp.

He whirled around to see the culprit, his eyes widening when he realized who the assailant was.

“Allison!” He brought his hand up to his chest, “are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Just palpitations, actually,” she chuckled she helped him regain his balance.

“Well congratulations,” he moved his fingers to his jugular to check his pulse. “You hit the nail on the head.”

“What’s your hurry anyway? Where are you going?”

His eyes shot to the papers still under his arm as he suddenly remembered his purpose.

“Well, I was over at John’s flat writing some material to present to the BBC,” he couldn’t help but smile at the fact, “it got late so I decided to walk home, but I was struck with inspiration for a sketch about a mile ago so it turned into a bit of a canter. I had to get back before I forgot about it.”

“Quick! Tell me before you forget!” She waved her hands around frantically.

“Er- right,” he hesitated, “it’s just an idea at the moment-“

“Shut up Palin! Let me hear the sketch!”

“Here goes.” He cleared his throat as they started walking in the direction of Allison’s flat.

Allison was completely immersed in this so-called sketch from beginning to finish. She found the whole idea extremely silly, much sillier than ‘How To Irritate People’. The idea was set in a world where everyone was a super hero, but the person they revered the most was a simple bicycle repairman. She just couldn’t get over the zaniness of it all; she couldn’t see how anyone could think up something so out of the blue. By the time he finished she was in hysterics. She had a tight grip on Mike’s shoulder while she doubled over with laughter.

“So it’s good, yeah?” He had a tight grip on her arm for good measure.

“Where did you even get that?” She managed to gasp in between spurts of laughter.

“You remember how I mentioned watching people on public transport?”

“Yes, vaguely,” she tried to play coy, as if she didn’t cling on to his every word.

“Well, I saw a young lad reading a Superman comic the other day, and the sketch practically wrote itself.”

“So, is every sketch going to be that off-the-wall?”

He reached up to smooth his hair down; this was becoming a nervous habit he had picked up around Allison. “Well, yeah. At least that’s what we’re going to try for.”

“Well, I’d definitely watch it. However, I don’t see the BBC really going for it considering how most of the programs are… well…”

“Mind-numbingly boring?” He interjected.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

They carried on like that the rest of the walk to Allison’s building, chatting and laughing about everything and nothing. Allison went on and on about hers and Cara’s antics with patients at the hospital while Mike reminisced on his Oxford days with his good friend, Terry.

At one point they walked past a pub that happened to still be open as it was approaching 2:00 am, and blaring from within was none other than Buddy Holly & The Crickets’ “Rock Me My Baby”.

Allison didn’t miss a beat; she grabbed Mike’s hand and began to twist. He was taken aback at first, not really one for dancing, but eventually he caved and began to twist along with her. She grabbed his hand, making him twirl her and she in turn twirled him back. Without really meaning to, he ended up pulling her to his chest and their hips rocked back and forth together in perfect time as they danced that way in the middle of the dark street for the remainder of the song. He released her on the ending chord, watching her closely as she skipped along the sidewalk in the direction that they were originally travelling in.

“Wow, I haven’t heard that song in ages.” HE added a little bounce to his step to keep up with her. “I actually saw Buddy Holly live in ’59.”

She whirled around quickly, stopping Michael dead in his tracks. “Words cannot describe the jealousy I’m experiencing right now.”

“Yeah, but you guys are from the same town so I think than more than makes up for it.”

She shook her head. “My mom said I was too young, I never got to see him play.”

“You poor, sheltered thing.” He curled his lip in mock pity.

She rolled her eyes hard as they turned the corner of her street.

“Well this is me.” She stopped in front of the door and turned to Michael. “Thanks for the dance and the company.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” he bowed deep as she chuckled. “Thanks for listening to my mess of a sketch.”

“My ear’s free anytime. I’d love to hear more sometime.”

With that she leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and opened the door of her building. It was innocent enough, but that didn’t stop the surge of electricity that Mike’s entire body was experiencing in that moment.

“Good night, Michael.”

“Sweet dreams, Allie.”

He waited until the door was securely shut before he started celebrating. He thrust his fist in the air and began running as fast as he could in the direction of his own building. He knew he shouldn’t read anything into the evening, but he couldn’t help but feel a spark with this girl. Talking was easy with her, hell; she even got him to dance. But that kiss, that was electric.

He sighed heavily, “If Eric doesn’t marry her, I will.”


	12. Riu Chiu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awwwww yeah! New Year's party time!

Allison gave her nod of approval as she stared at her reflection in her bedroom mirror. She had tried on many a dress all those days ago on her little shopping spree with Cara. Her friend had been right; when in doubt just go with the classic short black dress. Short enough to have a bit of fun, yet long enough to leave something to the imagination.

She was usually one to avoid mirrors and reflective surfaces if she could help it, never really satisfied with what she saw staring back. Well, not this time. She looked damn good; even she couldn’t deny it this time.

The black heels she wore really brought out the tone in her legs from running, and, if it were possible, they seemed to look even longer than usual. She wasn’t particularly curvy, but the tiny lack dress helped her out the best that it could in that department. Her long, curled locks fell past her bare shoulders, and midway down her exposed back. Due to the chilly winter weather they had been experiencing, she decided to cover up with a heavy black wool pea coat.

She gave herself one more look over, checking her makeup before stepping out of the bedroom and into the living area of her flat where Cara was waiting.

Her blonde friend looked up from the Tiger Beat magazine she was reading to study Allison’s outfit.

“Breathtaking!” She exclaimed. “A vision in black, Eric will love it!”

Allison took a moment to take in Cara’s choice of outfit as well. She wasn’t surprised to see that it was almost entirely pink, aside from the white boots and white tights. She donned a short pink skirt, a slightly less pink blouse, and an outrageously pink coat with hat to match.

“I don’t think you could’ve picked a more appropriate outfit to match your personality, Carebear,” she wrapped her best friend in a tight hug, “you look absolutely stunning, as usual.”

And she meant it too, she had always been a bit jealous of Cara for being able to do her make up expertly and never having a hair out of place. She never ever seemed to have an ‘ugly’ day so to speak, she was always all done up.

“The boys should be here soon, eh?”

Allison broke the embrace to glance at the clock that hung on her living room wall.

7:25, the party started at 8:00, and Eric said he would be there with the Terries and Mike at 7:30. Allison laughed silently to herself when Allison had first told Eric about going with Cara and Mike. He had tried so hard to hide his disappointment, but ever the sweetheart, he complied with a warm smile and a peck on the cheek.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Allison dashed back into her room, returning shortly afterwards with a beautiful string of pearls around her neck.

“Oooooh!” Cara squealed. “Where’d you get those you wicked girl?”

“Christmas gift from Eric.” Allison stated as she finished clasping the necklace.

She had hardly expected anything so lavish seeing as they had only been dating for a few months, but Eric had insisted. In return, Allison had a friend on the music front who made hand made acoustic guitars, she called in a favor and had a beautiful vintage burst acoustic guitar made for Eric. She couldn’t help but grin as she remembered him wiping a tear from his eye as he pulled Allison in for a deep kiss. He then began strumming an old Bob Dylan tune, pausing in between chord changes to listen to the deep, resonating sound the instrument produced.

Allison was brought back to Earth by the sound of her door being buzzed.

“That must be them now,” she threw one more glance at the clock, “right on time.”

When the two girls stepped out into the cool evening air they were met with the sight of Eric and Mike leaned up against a limo. Eric in a smart black tux, complete with black waistcoat and bowtie, and Mike in his black slacks and brown tweed sports jacket and waistcoat with the red bowtie.

The outfits complimented the two men very much. Eric had a tendency to be a bit flashy when it came to fashion, whereas Mike was much more down to Earth, never wanting to stray too far out of his comfort zone.

Mike was the first to see her. Well, to see them anyway. Allison caught his eye for a moment, but that moment was fleeting. Cara was his date, and ever the gentleman, Mike would treat her as nothing less than the most important person of the evening.

“My, my,” He managed as he looked Cara up and down, “Eric my boy, am I a lucky man, or am I a lucky man?” He took Cara’s hand in his and pressed his lips to its smooth white back. Eric turned quickly at Mike’s words, but was stopped by the woman in black that stood before him.

He let out a deep breath before speaking, “As am I, Mikey.” He reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Allison’s tanned ear, not even bothering to fight the huge grin that had spread across his boyish face. “As am I.”

The four of them were shaken out of the moment by a shrill, loud whistle that came from the inside of the vehicle. They all turned to see none other than Terry Jones, dressed head to toe in an electric green suit and top hat, peaking out of the sunroof in the back.

“What a good looking group we are, chaps!” He was obviously a little sloshed already. “Get those birds in the car, we’ve got a party to go to!”

Once safely inside, and some encouragement from Gilliam to get Terry to come down out of the roof, they were off. Allison was squeezed in between Terry’s date and Eric. Krista, at least that’s what it sounded like Terry said when he introduced them, was a lovely girl with green eyes and light brown hair, and the most luminescent of smiles Allison had ever seen. Her laugh was a bit strange; it consisted of two rounds of actual laughter, followed by about 30 seconds of gasping for breath. But still, she seemed sweet enough, and she hit it off well with Allison and Cara. Gilliam and his wife, Maggie, kept to themselves for most of the trip. Every once in a while Gilliam would turn to Mike and whisper something that would elicit that hearty laugh from the Yorkshireman, the one that warmed Allison’s heart every time she heard it. She mustn’t think like that anymore, she was with Eric, and she loved him…

Did she really just think that? A few days ago she hadn’t even entertained the idea until Eric had said it, but now she thought it without hesitation. She looked over to her smart-suited companion. The tux was well fitted; obviously not a rental, and he held his chin in his hand as he looked out of the window longingly. Always the thinker, her Eric.

He must’ve felt her eyes on him, because something brought him out of his daze. He looked over at Allison, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze and flashing his famous smile before returning to the window. Allison glanced over at her blonde friend, who was perched nearly on top of Michael.

Cara’s normally pale skin reddened as she blushed at something that Michael had whispered in her ear. Something in Allison’s gut churned as she gazed upon the pair, but it quickly passed, as the limo pulled into the parking lot of a very tall building in central London.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The party that evening was being thrown in the ballroom of the tall building, which belonged to the BBC. Once inside, Eric whisked off Allison to a hoard of people eagerly waiting to be approached by the great Idle. She threw one more glance back to the pink and tweed couple before they were swallowed by the masses.

“Eric!” A Northern voice shouted above the noise.

A tall, slim dark headed figure came up to greet them. Allison instantly recognized the man despite having never met him personally. It was none other than George Harrison, Allison’s biggest influence and favorite Beatle.

“George!” Eric gave the slender man a friendly hug. “Lovely to see you! What brings you here?”

“Here for Pattie,” his liverpudlian accent rolled expertly off of his tongue as he strode smoothly to the spot where Eric and Allison were standing. He paused in front of the couple and raised his hand up to gesture towards Allison. “This your girl, Idle?”

“She is indeed!” He smiled brightly as he touched his hand to the small of her back. “George, this is Allison. Allison, George.”

Allison was shocked into speechlessness as her favorite Beatle squeezed her hand affectionately. It took every ounce of her willpower not explode right there on the spot.

“N-n-nice to meet you, Mr. Harrison,” She managed to choke out.

“And you as well,” His eyes lingered on her for a moment. “Say, aren’t you the girl who played at the pub I met Eric at?”

Once again Allison’s words escaped her. Luckily, Eric came to her rescue.

“The very same!” He beamed. “She was something, wasn’t she?”

“I’ll say, even played some of me own songs better than me!”

Realization hit Allison like a 16-ton weight, “Oh my God! You saw that? “ She was absolutely mortified at the fact that an actual Beatle saw her play. “I sincerely apologize from the bottom of my heart!”

“What for?” He shrugged as he took a champagne glass off of one of the circulating trays. “You were brilliant! I especially enjoyed the Buddy Holly tune, one of me favorites.”

Allison’s cheeks couldn’t have been any redder, surely this was all a dream and she would wake up soon.

“Well I better be off, it was lovely to meet you Allison.” Before leaving he pointed an accusatory finger at Eric. “You still haven’t come ‘round for tea yet, I expect that to change in the near future.”

“Sure thing, George.” Eric shook hands with Beatle before he disappeared into the crowd.

Allison smacked Eric’s arm as soon as they were alone again.

“Ow!” He rubbed his arm as his lip curled into a pout. “What was that for?”

“You couldn’t have mentioned to me beforehand that you were friends with George Harrison?” She scolded.

“Oh yeah, must’ve slipped my mind,” he chuckled softly to himself. “Why? What’s the big deal?”

An exasperated look plastered itself on Allison’s face as she stared at the fair-haired man next to her.

“WHAT’S THE BIG DEAL?” Her jaw nearly hit the floor. “He’s only my favorite member of the biggest rock n’ roll group of all time, and you just casually became friends with him at one of my gigs. That might have been worth mentioning.”

“Oddly enough, meeting George wasn’t even the highlight of that evening.” A look of sincerity crossed his eyes. “Meeting you was.”

Allison’s cheeks were now the reddest they had ever been. If there was ever a perfect time to tell Eric that she loved him, this was it.

She cleared her throat deeply, “Eric I have something to tell you.”

“Hmm? What’s that love?”

“Eric I l-“

“Eric, old chap!” A hearty voice chimed. “Just the man I’ve been looking for!”

Allison couldn’t believe it, the one time she could muster up the courage to say it and she found herself being cut off by none other than John Cleese.


	13. Let 'Em In

“John!” Eric exclaimed, shooting Allison an apologetic look before greeting the tall, dark-haired man. “Lovely to see you!”

It was quite clear to Allison that the two were familiar with each other. Eric wasn’t usually one to wrap a stranger up in a tight hug like he did with this giant.

“Oh uh, pardon me, where are my manners?” Eric sputtered as he broke the embrace, gesturing towards Allison. “John, this is my girlfriend, Allison. Allison this is John Cleese, you remember him from the program we watched don’t you, love?”

“Of course,” She shook John’s outstretched hand firmly, trying to hide the shock of being called Eric’s ‘girlfriend’. It was something that had sort of been implied, but they had never used the word until now. “How To Irritate People was absolutely brilliant! You, sir, are a genius!” She chimed sincerely.

“Oh, isn’t she lovely?” John’s voice climbed up an octave. “And what excellent taste in entertainment! Can’t say the same for her taste in men!” He gave her a wink before nudging Eric in the ribs with his elbow.

“Oi!” Eric interjected. “Didn’t you say you were looking for me? Surely it wasn’t just to insult me.” He smoothed his waistcoat where John’s elbow had caused a slight wrinkle, before snaking his arm around Allison’s waist once more. Allison had started noticing it more and more here lately, but every time they were in the presence of another man Eric seemed to get a bit more handsy than usual. Weirdly enough, she had never thought him as the jealous type, but seeing him get slightly flustered was always sort of fun for her.

“Nothing gets past you, Idle.” John stated before continuing. “I was actually going to ask you if you had any upcoming projects that you knew of.”

“Aside from the occasional cabaret here and there, I’m free as a bird. Why do you ask?”

“How would you like to join Graham, Michael, Terry, Gilliam, and I on a new sketch comedy show that I’m working on? We could really use a mind like yours.” 

Eric raised an eyebrow as he mulled over John’s words carefully. Usually writers came to John, not the other way around, and Eric was genuinely touched that his old friend had thought to include him.

Allison’s voice interrupted his train of thought.

“That’s the show that Mike was writing that sketch for! Oh Eric, you must! If Mike’s sketch is anything to go by, it’s going to be brilliant!” She blurted slightly more information than she had intended to. She had neglected to tell Eric about the walk home with Mike the other night. Not really out of malice or anything like that, but simply because she had just been so busy these past couple of days that she really hadn’t had time to see, let alone speak to Eric much.

Eric opened and closed his mouth, unsure of how to respond to Allison’s comment. When did she even see Mike? Let alone read a sketch that he had written? He shook his head to quickly dismiss those thoughts to focus on the decision at hand.

“So it’s a writing gig as well as acting?” He continued.

“Of course!” John beamed. “We could really use a face like yours, Eric!” He added, batting his eyes sarcastically. 

It wasn’t completely a joke. It was no secret that Eric was a hit with the fairer sex, and if letting him in on the project would increase their feminine fan base, then John had no problem letting him in on this project.

“I won’t argue with you there,” Eric gave John one of his famous winks, the kind that usually made all of the girls swoon. “Why the hell not? I’m in.”

“Lovely! I’m setting up a meeting with the BBC sometime this next week to present some material, I’d love for you to come!”

Once again, Eric was caught off-guard.

“But I haven’t written anything yet.”

“Not to worry,” John patted Eric. “Like Allison said, Mike’s written a sketch that I think will seal the deal with the producers.”

“Right,” Eric’s voice took on an irritated tone at the mention of Mike and Allison in the same sentence. “Just let me know.”

“Will do,” John squeezed Eric’s hand before scanning the crowd around them. “You haven’t seen Gray by chance, have you?”

“By the alcoholic beverages would be my guess,” Eric stated, the irate tone still very much prevalent.

“Speaking of which, I’m quite thirsty, actually.” Allison unraveled herself from Eric’s grasp, which had become tighter since the mention of Mike. “Can I bring you something, Eric?”

“I can go wi-“ He started before being cut off.

“Oh no!” Allison started backing away. “Stay and talk. I’ll grab you a gin and tonic, yeah?”

“Umm sure.”

“John, anything?” Her eyes shifted to the taller of the two.

“Nothing for me, thanks. I’ve got to keep my wits about me,” He chimed, tapping his head for emphasis.

“Right, I’ll be back in a few then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Mike found that he was having a grand time at the party. He was having a blast catching up with old friends, and making new acquaintances, and Cara was the perfect date for the occasion. She was pretty, outgoing, and funny, everything that a party date should be.

For that reason, he found the feeling of guilt welling up in the pit of his stomach. Over the course of the past hour, when he should have been giving Cara all of his attention, he found his gaze wondering over to Allison and Eric.

The two hadn’t strayed far since they’d arrived. In fact, they hadn’t had the chance; George Harrison himself had found them quite quickly. It seemed like someone had increased the temperature drastically when he saw the way she blushed while talking to the musician.

It was no secret to Mike that George was Allison’s favorite Beatle, and he knew it was silly to get all worked up over a celebrity crush, especially when she wasn’t even his girl. But he could feel his cheeks redden with jealousy.

“You alright there, Mike?”

He shook himself out of his trance to find a very concerned looking Cara, Terry, Krista, and Tim Brooke-Taylor staring back at him.

“Fine,” He cleared his throat. “Never better.”

“Right,” Cara said skeptically, before turning back to the conversation the four of them were having.

When Mike let his gaze wander back over to Eric and Allison he was shocked to see that George had left and that John had taken his place. 

Mike’s throat tightened as he watched Eric’s arm weave its way around her waist. He had known Eric for a number of years, and had noticed that this was Eric’s way of claiming what he thought was his. Which, in turn, meant that Eric had it bad for her.

And why wouldn’t he? Mike let his thoughts wonder over the encounters he, himself, had had with her. He’d had it bad for her ever since she had carjacked him a few months ago, why should Eric be any different?

He looked up once again to see that it was just Eric and John talking at this point.

“Where the hell did she-“ his thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash coming from the bar behind him.

He whirled around to see none other than Graham Chapman holding two empty, broken martini glasses, and a soaking wet Allison lying on the ground.

He acted quickly, leaping to obstruct Eric’s and his group of friends’ view of the fray.

“I think I’ll just pop over to the bar and grab a drink,” He put on his best fake smile. “Can I get anyone anything?”

He was responded to by a series of groans and vigorous head shaking from the group.

He shrugged. “Suit yourselves,” and with that, he was off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“W-what happened?” Allison stuttered as she slowly began to regain consciousness.

She found herself in an unfamiliar room; it consisted of three champagne-colored walls, and one that was entirely a mirror. It was furnished with a plush crimson love seat that she found herself waking up on, and two luxurious looking chairs of the same color. She paused when she came to the coffee table beside her, as two man-shaped forms began to take shape. As she focused, she instantly recognized Michael’s soft hazel eyes, and shaggy brown hair, but the tall light-haired fellow that loomed a few inches from her face wasn’t ringing any bells.

She twisted and writhed to try and distance herself from this unfamiliar person, when a sharp pounding sensation in her frontal lobe brought her to an abrupt stop.

“Not so fast,” The stranger said in a calm, deep voice as he shone a bright light into each of her pupils.

Allison groaned as she slowly brought herself to a sitting position and winced as she caught a glimpse herself in the wall-mirror. Her hair was soaked in what she guessed was an alcoholic beverage of some kind, and a huge goose egg had begun to rear it’s ugly head a few inches above her left eye. She turned back to face Mike whose concerned look was starting to fade into a smirk.

“Don’t”, She scolded as he started snickering. “I swear to God, Palin, one word and I will end you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he bit his lip to stifle his laughter. “Anyway, I hear the unicorn look is coming back into style.”

Allison shot daggers at him, as the fair-haired pipe-smoking gentleman, whom obviously had extensive medical knowledge, finished his evaluation of her injuries.

The tall man sat back and took a long pull off of his pipe before speaking, “It looks like you’ve got a bit of a concussion, nothing too serious, but I’d take it easy for a few days and mind that bruise.” He tapped the end of his pipe to the bump on her forehead.

“Thanks Gray,” Mike squeezed his shoulder affectionately as the man turned to leave.

“It’s the least I can do, my apologies, miss,” He bowed low before exiting the room.

“The BBC kept its medical staff on hand tonight?” Allison inquired as she sat back on the love seat.

“You didn’t recognize him from the show?” Mike plopped down next to her, handing her an ice pack, which she immediately placed on her forehead.

“Cut me some slack, I’m growing a second head and I smell like poor life choices.”

Mike couldn’t stop himself from laughing; he couldn’t believe that he still found her absolutely stunning even in this disheveled state. 

“Well you were sprinting at record speed, I’m surprised it’s not much worse.”

“What happened exactly?”

“Well, you were making a break for the bar, and it looked like you ran right into Graham there, who happened to be carrying two now-broken glasses of potent liquid.”

“Oh my God,” she brought her hands to her face to hide in shame, “how big of a scene did I cause?”

“Luckily, I was able to obstruct the crowd’s view of the affair, but the crash was pretty loud.” Mike got up and crossed the room to the door.

Allison groaned. “I could really use a drink, then.”

Mike’s worrisome look came flooding back, “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re locked in.”


End file.
